


Bloody Gryffindors

by DeepestEnemyEagle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi, just a little, will we die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-19 18:34:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14879055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepestEnemyEagle/pseuds/DeepestEnemyEagle
Summary: "Dear, Dear, have you got no manners, love? That's not how you talk to your Husband." he whispered into her ear, then bit her earlobe, making her yelp."Shouldn't you be punished, my bad little wife?"Hermione whimpered, remembering the last time she disobeyed him."Please, no!"He smirked, clearly enjoying the situation she was in. Nacked, hands tied."shhh... Crucio."





	1. The Departure

Hermione Black lay on the comfortable red sofa of the Gryffindor common room, her chest rising and falling gently accompanied by soft snores escaping her mouth. She had sweet, sweet dreams, but we can not let her sleep in peace, now can we? No.

Fred and George Weasley rushed into the common room, searching for her. Naturally, as the pranksters saw her sleeping, they did not use the boring old conventional methods to wake her up. Smirking at the sleeping form of Hermione, their fellow prankster, George handed Fred his old cheering horn. With a smirk of his own, Fred held it out to Hermione’s ear and…

_POOONNNNGGGGGGG!!!!!!_

The sound caught Hermione off-guard. Hermione shot up, shutting her ears with her hands, screaming, “Stop! Fucking stoppp!”

Smiling widely at Hermione’s current furious expression, Fred threw the horn to his twin,

“Works very well, George, wanna give it another go?”

“Sure”

“No! George I—”

_PPOONNNGGG!!!!!!_

Cursing under her breath, Hermione pulled her wand and non-verbally cursed the twins, their red hair turn into heavy branches of trees, making them loose their balance and fall onto the ground.

Groaning, George said,

“Fuck, Hermione, have some mercy! This is our last day at Hogwarts!”

Hermione’s playful smile disappeared as she was reminded that this was her last day at Hogwarts, her real home. She probably wouldn’t see the twins, her only friends, anymore. Her mother would never allow hwr to interact with blood-traitors.  She would have to stay at the noble house of Blacks until she got married. Her parents would probably marry her to a Slytherin, and oh God, how she hated them.

Marriage, what the fucking hell! 

Watching Hermione’s expression turned from happy to scary in a mere millisecond was frightening. The hairs stood on the twins’ necks as Hermione turned her attention back to them, smiling widely once again.

Her smile never reached her eyes in the graduation ceremony.

* * *

Hermione would never get used to this. This nobility wasn’t her thing. To her, being a pure-blood was a curse, because a pure-blood witch didn’t have freedom. A pure-blooded witch was expected to marry and have children, make a family. But unfortunately for lady Black, Hermione was too determined for her own good. Hermione could never be considered a normal Pure-blood.

Hermione smiled a brilliant Mona Lisa smile as the memory of her last encounter with Theodore Nott came rushing into her mind. Ha! She hardly even did anything, and he immediately ran away seeing the scary expression on her face.

Oh, how she loved scaring men who wanted to marry her. Fucking Idiots! They did not deserve her!

Fuming, she buckled the belt of the heavy black dress and opened the door—

“Look at your _dress_! A Black does not wear their hair like _that_!” the damned voice of her mother interrupted.

— her hand snapped backwards as the door snapped close.

Turning around, she glared at her mother, her anger mounting.

“Mum!”

“Why did you even chop your hair off like that!” Her mother screamed, referring to her hair which were cut into a messy pixie. Hermione got chills as she was reminded of that night.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione stood at the same place, the difference being her whole attire. Her dress was buckled too tight for her taste and her heels too high for her unpracticed feet, however, Hermione took pride in the fact that her mother had not been able to tame her curly brown hair which stuck out at all the ends.

Her hands reached for the doorknob, and yet again, she was halted by the infuriatingly faux sweet voice of her mother, asking her if she was alright with a half-blood. Of course, she said yes. The half-blood was going to be dealt with later, when she would tell him to get running.

Finally, _finally_ , Hermione opened the door, but it it was not a huge improvement, as she halted in her steps.

Seeing the face of the former head boy irritated her to no ends.

* * *

 

 

* * *

 


	2. The Red Eyes

Tom knew her very well by now, he had dealt with the bloody Gryffindor for his whole bloody time at Hogwarts, except his first year. She was the worst of pranksters at Hogwarts, and when she teamed up with the Weasleys, his life was hell. She used to have long and curly chocolate colored hair, just like a lion’s mane, you could see her infuriating hair from miles away, and her big mouth that never seemed to shut up. Tom had no Idea how she maintained the status of both the prankster-supreme and the bookworm. Whatever, but for now, he needed to forget all that time he had spent doing paperwork, trying to get her into detention, and failing miserably.

 

But today, he would finally show her where she belongs. Oh, yes, he didlook forward to it.

 

As if on cue, the door opened, admitting Hermione in. She was totally different than what he remembered. She was wearing a long black gown with a green belt, that looked expensive, with matching hells with green stones. But the greatest difference by far was her hair. It was cut roughly as if someone had taken a scissor and chopped it off, although it was still un-tamed. Tom raised his eyebrows, green may not suit her, but the dress glinted to her body very tightly, she looked absolutely desirable. But as she looked at him, she stopped dead in her tracks. He smirked, winking such that no-one but she could see.

 

Looking at the infuriating smirk on Riddle’s face, Hermione glared blandly at him, earning a look from her mother.

 

"Why the fucking hell are you here?!"

 

"Language, Hermione! Go and sit down!"

 

"Why?"

 

"GO!"

 

Hermione snorted and turned her eyes from Riddle to her mother.

 

"I’m not gonna marry, mother! no matter what you do!"

 

Grudgingly, she walked towards the green couch at the back of the living room, and sat down. Oh how she hated Green! Oh how she hated Slytherins! And most of all, oh how she hated Riddle and his knowing golden eyes that made you want to sink in them!

 

No matter how much Hermione hated Riddle, she still couldn’t help but appreciate his looks. Sharp cheekbones, perfect teeth, porcelain skin and dark red lips. She knew many girls would die to get married to him, but she was not just any girl. She didn’t want to get married to some slytherin know-it-all and spend the rest of her life in a room full of books. No. Never.

 

She didn’t pay attention as her parents started talking to Riddle. She yawned picked up a sweet from the platter before her, eating it whole in a single bite. Never noticing that Tom’s gaze followed her every action. After a while of grumbling and eating her full, she used a napkin to clean her face and stood up, then walked to the other end of the room to excuse herself from the highly boring conversation her parents and Riddle were having.

 

Politics. Grindelwald. Politics. Grindelwald. That’s all they ever talked about, and she was surprised to see Riddle so enthusiastic about the topic of conversation. Know-it-all good boy. She hated him. Hated the perfect gentleman. He was so, so very boring.

 

"Mum, I’m going to the library—"

 

"— no dear, I think you should spend time with young mister Riddle, here. At last, you’ll also get married like your elder sister!"

 

Hermione’s eyes widened in panic. Marry? But her Mother just met him!

 

"MARRY?! You decided that I marry him, without even asking ME! It’s—"

 

"Then, Mister Riddle, I’ll leave her with you. You may want privacy, her room is next door—"

 

"— NO I AM NOT—"

 

"-Stop, Hermione," Riddle said, and for the first time since last two years, he spoke to her, his voice low but authoritative. Hermione stoped shouting and looked at him in the eye. "I’ll talk to her, Lady Black, she shall understand."

 

Hermione was unable to utter a single word as he stood up and stepped close to her. She took a step back, her eyes widening as she looked up at him. She turned her head to look at her parents, but was only met buy their retreating figures. She flinched as the door shut close behind them.

 

She didn’t know why, but adrenaline rushed into her veins as she looked up at him. He was a good head taller than her, and his eyes, oh his eyes. They were brown, one could always mistake them for black if they didn’t look too closely. They were not black, but a dark color of brown with golden specks. But if she remembered correctly, there were more of them. She had gotten lost in his eyes before, but they had a red sheen in them. No, it wasn’t a trick of the light, they did. She had seen the red sheen growing, she had thought it was just her mind playing tricks until her sixth year, when he was furious with her. But now, it was brighter than she had ever seen, and the golden flecks almost invisible.

 

"Hermione" She was brought out of her day dream. Shit, she had been staring at his eyes! again! Flushing brilliant red, she looked down at her feet.

 

"That’s better, now, to your bedroom,"he said, nodding towards the door her mother had pointed out.

 

Hermione regained her composure and looked up at him once more, but remained in control of her fucked up senses. "Look, Riddle. Say what you want right over here, I don’t want to play games. I’m not gonna marry, period. Why is it so hard to understand?"

 

He looked down at her, annoyed. "Shut up, Hermione, and move. Those kinds of gowns don’t have pockets for wands, so you’re completely wandless, I suggest you don’t flare my temper, I’m not bound to stay in my limits as a head boy anymore."

 

Not bound to stay in his limits? Damn. She’d show him his limits, but only if she had a wand…

 

"Oh, yes? What are you gonna do if I fucking "flare your temper"? huh?"

 

"Oo, little Hermione uses bad language, Lets teach you a lesson first," he said, retrieving his wand from its’ holster. Hermione’s eyes widened as he snaked his arm around her waist and forced her to walk. He moved at a pace Hermione could hardly catch up with in her damned heels and if the smirk on his face was anything to go by, he was doing it on purpose. He opened the door with his free hand, and to Hermione’s utter bewilderment, pushed her onto the bed harshly, closing the door and locking it. She had no idea of what was going on, the only explanations she had was ’Good boy wasn’t entirely good’.

 

After the door was successfully locked (Only a black was supposed to be able to lock it!), he turned back to Hermione.

 

"Now, where were we? Yes, your lesson." He said, sitting next her on the red and golden bedsheet. He reached for her arm and held it painfully hard on purpose.

 

"First off, Hermione, no foul language. If I hear those muggle slangs again, you’re going to pay, understood?" He said, expecting an answer from the dumbstruck Hermione. He sighed as the wide-eyed Hermione did not answer, mumbling something like Bloody Gryffindors.

 

A surprised yelp escaped her mouth as he pulled her off the bed, holding both of her hands, so that she was standing before him. No matter how much she tried, Hermione could not get to her bearings.

 

"Alright, Hermione?"

 

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, allowing herself some time to gain her composure. Once she was sure she could speak again, she said;

 

"What is it you want?"

 

"For the current situation, your submission"

 

"Why my Submission? Why not any other girl who would do anything for you? Hm? I’m sure half the girls at Hogwarts would die for you."

 

"But I want to marry you, let me tell you why; you won’t die for me, You’re the kind who would kill for me."

 

A small smile made it’s way on Hermione’s face, "And who would the Head Boy want dead? Oh, perhaps those ’Bloody Gryffindors’?"

 

The slytherin signature smirk was etched on his face as he said, "Well, I don’t want them dead, but now that I have my favorite one of those three Bloody Gryffindors, I’d have my way with her."

 

Hermione’s eyes narrowed when she saw the red sheen growing, but just as she was about to ask him of it, he picked up his wand again. She watched him as his long fingers left her arms and started playing with the wand. Seconds passed… she tore her eyes from his fingers and looked up into his eyes which were not red anymore, they were quite the opposite. The golden in his eyes seemed to have increased somehow, he seemed to be lost in thought.

 

"It’s rude to stare, Hermione," He said, and only then was she aware that he was observing her closely. He seemed so clam when his eyes were golden, and showed emotion (perfectly controlled emotion, mind you!) when they were red, but she hadn’t read of eyes with multiple colors anywhere, perhaps she could check the—

 

Her musings were cut short as the pale wand was pointed at her, making her gulp.

 

"Breathe, kitten."

 

Only then did she realize that she had held her breath.

 

"I don’t particularly like a wand pointed at me when I’m unarmed, one never knows what comes next."

 

"Indeed, but why don’t you want to marry me? I’m not exactly sure you’d find anyone better."

 

He knew that she would be uneasy talking about it, but he had to keep her in her limits. And when she didn’t answer his question second time that day, he flicked his wand, and she was on her knees before him. He watched her widened eyes and smirked, " C’mon little kitten, answer me, you don’t want to keep me waiting, do you?"

 

He cupped her cheeks, then started playing with her short curly hair. A small chuckle escaped his mouth as he saw the hair standing at the back of her neck.

 

"Tick-tock, tick-tock"

 

When he was sure she was not going to answer, he stoped playing with her hair, and pulled them harshly, making her yelp in pain. He snaked his arm behind her waist, and forced her to arch her body. Still holding her hair painfully tight, he reached forward to her Adam’s apple, and kissed it gently, whispering, "Answer, Love."

 

"Okay, I’ll answer! let go! Okay, Please, Please!"


	3. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I don't have much free time being a medical student, however, here you go! :)

Hermione had no Idea what had gotten into Riddle. He was the ever perfect good boy, on top of all his classes and a fucking head boy! For Merlin’s sake! He was not supposed to be seated in her lounge at the very movement, discussing the people who are supposed to be invited. Apparently, he wanted to keep this "Marriage" a secret. If You Asked Hermione’s opinion, there was something seriously off with him. He was practically radiating Dark Magic back in her bedroom, plus the fact that her fucking brother, Alphard Black, seemed to be acting like his slave.

 

She had dragged him off to the other side to tell him about Riddle’s little interrogation back in her bedroom. Riddle had even used legilimency just to see if she was lying! And when, finally, he was satisfied after almost a whole fucking hour, her wrists were bruised from his tight hold and her brain buzzing from legilimency. And what was more, he had been rough with her on purpose! He could go easy with the legilimency, but no! he tore through her flimsy occlumency shields with extra force, just so she ’ _knew not to put a step out of line_ ’, as he had very generously elaborated.

 

"Hey Alphie, I wanted to tell you something," She had said, trembling because Riddle’s words were ingrained in her mind, ’ _We’ll look for an appropriate punishment if you tell anyone, kitten, it won’t be pleasant_ ’

 

"Yes, Hermione?"

 

"Well, you must remember the head boy, Tom Riddle, he was in your year. He was here—"

 

"— I don’t want to talk about it, ’Mione"

 

Hermione had tried to ask him, or explain her situation to him, but he had continued to ignore her. This was exceedingly suspicious of him and she couldn’t help but think that Riddle had a hand in this. Damn Riddle!

 

She excused herself from all the marriage planning and went to the library too seek some peace of mind. She picked up a thick tome on occlumency and began flipping through it. But no matter how much she tried, she was not able to concentrate on it. Sighing, she threw the book behind her with a _thud_. What could she even do? She was being forced to marry, just like all the other women in her family. And Hermione could not believe it! That bastard had charmed her parents plus Alphard and now he was going for her too! Running a hand through her pixie, she picked up the quill and started writing (it was more of scribbling) furiously;

 

_Dear Fred and George,_

_I hope you get this letter. Okay, enough with formalities. Damn It! Riddle is here! that fucking troublesome Head Boy. The teacher’s pet. But you know what? He is more fucked up than we initially thought. Cant tell everything here. Let’s meet,_

_grudgingly,_

_Hermione._

 

Folding the letter, she bound it onto the black owl’s leg. "Fred and George, don’t let mum know, and peck them until they are alone."

She went further into the library and opened the door to the balcony, allowing Bucky the owl to fly away. As she leaned against the smooth metal framework of the grill, she remembered the good old limes with her fellows. She had named it Bucky on purpose, just to annoy her mother. She laughed at the memory, her mother’s face had turned brilliant red when she’d screamed "Bucky!" in the presence of Lady Malfoy. She remembered how the three of them, Fred, George and her, had caused so much trouble. She remembered Riddle’s face had turned just as brilliant red as her mother when they’d pranked him once.

 

_It was a winter evening in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The three Gryffindors had been in the hospital wing that day (A Weasleys’ wizard wheezes experiment gone wrong). Madam Pomfery was in need of a break and the head boy was sent to keep an eye on the "Three Bloody Gryffindors", as they had been called. He had been pacing, the three of the throwing snide comments at him, but he had learned from his previous experiences to not even bother to reply. Smirking, the three of them passed a seemingly insignificant little ball to one-another, the keyword being "Seemingly"._

 

_"Hey Riddle"_

 

_No answer. Hermione smirked. She had a Fix._

 

_Opening her mouth wide, she started to sing slowly and loudly,_

 

_"Lucky Riddle in the hall,_

_Little fucking Know it all,_

 

_Sneaky fella’s slithery pet,_

_little Nagini under his bed, —"_

 

_Were his eyes red? probably a trick of light._

 

_"—Tommy Boy’s face is red,_

_infuriating ego so long dead,_

 

_And oh my, now he’s so enraged,_

_so much like a tomato-head —"_

 

_And to Hermione’s glee, he lost his temper and cursed her. Flipping off the bed to dodge the curse, she threw the ball to Fred, who made a clear target of Tom and threw the ball full-force. Her mouth opened in a wide smile. Oh, how she was dying to see Riddle’s hair turned red. But the spectacle she witnessed was nothing she expected._

 

_Just before the door stood Snape, his hair yellow. She struggled to hold in her laugh. Everyone wars still as a statue, George was aiming his wand at Riddle from behind his bed. Who was facing Fred, his wand raised, and Hermione peeking from behind her bed. The scene was comical. Professor Snape approached Riddle._

 

_"And what is going on here, Mr.Riddle?" He said, apparently unaware of his current hair color. The three of them struggled to keep their booming laughter to themselves as Snape flicked his hair, the usually intimidating gesture threatening to make them lose control over their mouths. George was the first to laugh out loud, and the other two couldn’t hold back any longer. Even Riddle, being so cold and smug, laughed. And Hermione could not help but admire his flushed cheeks._

 

Hermione came back to her senses as a cool hand pressed into her back, making her shiver, and the fact that she was wearing a backless gown made matters worse. She tried to turn around, but instead he pined her in place against the balcony grill, moving his fingers along the length of her exposed back. A soft gasp left her mouth as he dug his finger into her shoulder blade painfully, making him chuckle.

 

"Old memories, yes?"

 

"Yes"

 

"Hmm… Did no-one teach you manners, Hermione? You should always use an envelope when owning people, especially old friends." He said, withdrawing his warm fingers, leaving Hermione’s cold skin in a sense of loss. She realized she had liked the pain he had elicited.

 

_shit! He Knows!_

 

"And don’t you think It’s disrespectful to disobey your soon-to-be Husband? Do you remember what I said?"

 

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't intend to complete this story unless I get absolutely huge number of Kudos! ;p  
> So.........ya know what to do in order to keep me typin'!!!  
> I'M SIRIUS ABOUT THIS!


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